


Of Sons and Siblings

by the_liar



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_liar/pseuds/the_liar
Summary: Domeric Bolton's days in the Vale before returning home and meeting his brother.
Relationships: Domeric Bolton & Jasper Redfort, Domeric Bolton & Ramsay Bolton, Domeric Bolton/Mya Stone, Domeric Bolton/Mychel Redfort, Domeric Bolton/Mychel Redfort/Mya Stone, Mychel Redfort/Mya Stone
Kudos: 1





	Of Sons and Siblings

Domeric knelt before the knight in the great hall across from the red and white tapestry. “I pledge to serve you well as your squire, my lord.”

The knight, a man named Jasper Redfort with short brown hair, green eyes, and a stubbled chin, laughed. “I'm sure you will, but enough of that. Don't call me 'lord.' I'm still just a lord's son, same as you.” He offered a hand to help Domeric to his feet.

“Thank you, uh...”

“Call me Jasper. It's good enough for my family, so it's good enough for you. I squired for some ass who thought himself royalty just because he belonged to House Lannister. He made me call him Ser Lucion the Shining.” Jasper said the name with an air of false vanity and Domeric laughed. He liked the man already.

“So, Domeric? How old are you? You look a man already.”

“I'm sixteen.” He had to catch himself from saying “my lord” again.

“ _Sixteen_? You begin squiring late in the North.”

“Well, we don't usually squire at all, but my father thought I could profit from training with other Houses.” That was the kinder version of events that Domeric told, but not the one that he believed. “We don't have many knights in the North.”

Jasper shook his head. “Ah yes, that's right. Funny how much of what you learn can slip your mind. I swear I've forgotten more than I've ever known. I'm just twenty-three, so still many things to forget yet. I earned my knighthood a couple of years ago. Hopefully, I've retained enough to teach you something, but I can't guarantee it.”

Domeric smiled. “I'm sure I'll learn a lot.”

“Let me show you around.” Jasper led him through the castle, which was larger than Barrow Hall but smaller than the Dreadfort. Domeric mostly listened as Jasper told him who was who around the castle and where to find things. While in the kitchens, Jasper mentioned that the ale their brewmaster made was good, much better than the stuff they had at the Bearded Goat, a nearby tavern, which apparently was truly awful.

“How are the taverns in the North? Do you drink from bear paws and dig your way through the snow if you need to use the pit?”

Domeric laughed. “I don't think so, but I can't say for sure because I've never been to one.”

“ _Never_? How do you spend sixteen years in the world without going to a tavern?”

“Well, I've lived with my aunt since I was twelve, and...” Domeric wasn't sure how to word it. She hadn't exactly stopped him from going, but he knew that she would have been disappointed if he had. “She doesn't think they're appropriate places for boys.”

Jasper stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter. Domeric blushed. He'd made a fool of himself already.

“Sorry, gods I'm –” Jasper broke off into a chuckle. “Really, it's not that strange. My mother would have kept me out of brothels for my whole life if she could have. I just...never thought to actually do as she wished. I mean, did she lock you in your room at night?”

“No, I... let's talk about something else.” Domeric felt his cheeks still burning.

“I'm sorry. It's sweet really. She sounds quite nice.” Jasper looked embarrassed. “Would you like to go? To a tavern, I mean. The Bearded Goat's so close we could walk to it.”

“I thought you said their ale was horrible.”

“You don't go to a tavern for their ale, believe me. Besides, their wine isn't bad. Come on, let's go! I'll invite Creighton.”

Truly, Domeric had wanted to go to a tavern for years now to see what all the fuss was about. He hesitated for only a moment before replying, “Okay, let's do it.”

***

Creighton scowled and lowered his thick dark brows. “Fuck no, I hate that place.”

He was Jasper's younger brother by four years, but Domeric would never have guessed that from his square face and permanent frown. Despite his continued protestations and after an extended argument, Jasper had convinced him to come. On the short walk down the dusty road, Creighton complained about every aspect of the plan: the chosen bar, the fact that they weren't taking the horses, and, as they reached the tavern, even the table that they sat at. Domeric felt uncomfortable and unsure what to do about the man's irritation, but Jasper seemed to take it in stride.

“Well, I'll get us a round of drinks.” Jasper said, standing.

Domeric and Creighton responded simultaneously. “Thank you.” “I can buy my own.”

Jasper sighed. “How about you get the next round?” But Creighton was already digging in his wallet and slapped a few coppers into Jasper's hand. Jasper held them out with a raised eyebrow as if saying “really?” but Creighton stared back at him until he left.

Domeric sat stiffly. “So, uh, Creighton –”

“ _Ser_ Creighton. I didn't spend 6 years in the Eyrie for nothing.”

“Right, so uh, how about...” He groped desperately for a conversation topic, searching around the cobbled stone walls and finally landing on a stuffed black goat's head. “Goats?”

Creighton looked at him as if he were an idiot. “What about them?”

“They're, uh, bearded. Do you ever wonder why they...?” His voice trailed off into nothing as he traced a beard around his chin. Thankfully, Jasper came back with three cups of wine at that moment, so Domeric could occupy his mouth.

“Think they gave you a mummer instead of a squire, Jasper, and a poor one at that. You ought to send him back.”

“Oh, leave him alone. I'm sure you had them all swooning on your first day.”

“Better than you. I was knighted in six years, took you eight.”

“And thank the Gods for that. Just think: if you hadn't been, I couldn't appreciate your lovely company today.”

“You're the bastard who invited me!” Creighton snarled.

“I know, just... Give me a break, please. I wanted to show Domeric a good time. Can't we argue later?”

“You can entertain your own damn pet. I have more important things to do.” Creighton stomped to the scarred wooden door at the entrance of the tavern. A serving wench rushed behind him to open it for him, but he ignored her, slamming the door into the wall on his way out.

“Um, should we go after him?” Domeric said after a moment.

“Don't worry about it. He's probably just going to a brothel.”

“Oh... We should definitely go after him.”

Jasper laughed. “Not as innocent as you act, huh?” Domeric decided not to mention that he'd never been to a brothel either. Jasper looked tempted. “No, I can't. My father's negotiating marriages for me at the moment. It wouldn't look good if I were seen in a whore house. You'd be surprised what women expect of their betrothed these days.”

Domeric must have looked disappointed because Jasper added, “But don't let me stop you.”

Domeric considered briefly. The thought of going to a brothel on his own was intriguing in this place where nobody knew his father or had any expectations of him as his only son. But then again, he never knew what to say to women, and in the mysterious candlelit rooms of a brothel... “No, it's all right. I'd probably get lost on my way back anyway.” Before he'd even finished the sentence, Jasper had grabbed the arm of a nearby serving wench.

“Lynna, so good to see you! Have I introduced you to my squire yet?”

“No, you haven't. Haven't seen you in ages either.” She smiled at the two of them. She was older than Domeric might have first considered but attractive with long, thick blond hair and a well-proportioned figure. He felt heat creeping into his face.

“I know. I should really visit more often, but I love surprising myself each time I forget how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, stop!” She chuckled, charmingly, before eyeing Domeric. “And the lad?”

“This is Domeric Bolton, son of Lord Roose Bolton. He's from the North, you know, more wolf than man.” Jasper slapped Domeric on the back, and Domeric almost plunged into the table from the force.

“Really?” Lynna quirked an eyebrow.

“We don't really consider ourselves wolves,” Domeric mumbled.

“What?” Lynna shouted.

Domeric jumped up. “My lady, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance.” He took her hand and kissed it.

“Well isn't that sweet? How old are you, boy?”

“Sixteen.”

She smiled at Domeric and gave a clumsy curtsy. “It was nice to meet you, m'lord.” Then she turned to the knight and winked. “You must come see me again, Jasper.”

Domeric felt his heart sink as she walked away. Jasper nudged his shoulder.

“Women, huh? Don't let her fool you. She likes them young, just plays hard to get.”

Domeric watched as Lynna sat at another table and laughed with some men. He wondered if Jasper was just saying that to make him feel better. But as he was feeling a nice buzz from the wine, he soon put it out of his mind. Domeric grew drunker as the hours passed. He'd decided finally to try the infamous ale but was now regretting it.

“Do they make this with seawater? Why's it salty?” He made a face after taking another sip.

Jasper shook his head. “Creighton thinks they add it to hide the fact that it's gone off. Drink at your own risk.”

Domeric thought about pushing it aside, but the tavern had gotten so full it was difficult to flag down a barmaid. He shrugged and continued drinking the concoction. The roar of voices in the pub drowned out any conversations more than a foot away, giving a sense of privacy in the crowd. Domeric cleared his throat and considered asking about Creighton again, but then the words were already out of his mouth.

“Why is Creighton so – such an asshole?”

Jasper looked thoughtful. “He's not really. Well...” He reconsidered. “I guess he is, but it's just sibling rivalry, you know?”

“You mean he has to prove he's better than you?”

“Yeah, that's part of it. He was, I mean, I was always better at everything than him growing up, but I'm older, you know.” He shrugged. “And he always knew that I will be lord whenever our father dies. I guess that's hard to accept because I didn't really do anything to deserve it. He's more like our father really. More of a head for all this stuff. I was just born earlier, but you know, you have your training and you learn to fill your role.”

Domeric nodded like he understood, but he had never trained with his father, and he still couldn't imagine himself as lord. Perhaps that was why his father had sent him to the Vale, to learn the skills he would need. _But that's not the true reason..._ He took a breath and forced himself to pay attention to Jasper's words before he lost himself in his head.

“I think when he was away squiring at the Eyrie, it was easier for him to forget, and now that he's back he has to think about it. He has to think about what he's going to do, and I don't think he knows.”

Domeric had never had to consider what his role would be when he grew older. His life had already been laid out for him. It was a strange thought. “Can't your father help him with that?”

“He will, but I must come first. He's working on finding a wife for me now. I mean I am older so it makes sense, but that's just another thing to add to his pile of injustices. I think he was angry too that I got to squire under a Lannister but he was just under some cousin-in-law of Lord Arryn. He wanted to go to Storm's End or even King's Landing. But it's not that easy, you know? Our father's really doing the best he can. There's so much he has to think about.” He cleared his throat as if embarrassed. “Do you have any brothers?”

Domeric shook his head. “No, it's just me.”

“You're lucky. I hope I only have one son and the rest daughters. It's so much easier to just marry them off.” Jasper gave a sheepish grin.

“I suppose.” Domeric frowned and briefly wondered at the mysteries of siblings and sons before being distracted by a fight breaking out in the far corner of the tavern.

After that conversation, Domeric's memories of the night grew fuzzy and disjointed. He remembered stepping out into the cool night's air, talking loudly of his Aunt Bar. And then trying and failing to climb a tree and laughing so hard he thought he might vomit. He awoke early the next morning with a terrible crick in his neck. He was lying in the dirt under a tree with Jasper snoring loudly next to him.


End file.
